Two Sides to Every Story
by LapisLazuli786
Summary: The long awaited second installment in the Whose Side series. Takes place in Chamber of Secrets and follows our heroine as she returns for her second year at Hogwarts. Puzzle solving! Blatant racism! Petrification! Her fic being taken over by a ginger twin! Will Hermione survive? (Hint: yes.)
1. Prologue: The Letters

_**Okay, guys, gals and non-binary pals. This is the beginning of Part II. There were some impatient reviews/comments so I'm just gonna go ahead and start posting it - just don't be expecting very regular updates; I promise I've been working on it, I just hav of other things going on atm.**_

 _ **Thank you all so much for your kudos and comments, believe me when I say that they are my motivation to write this story and that I cherish each and every one of them 3**_

 _ **Also, a note: read -any text like this- as a srikethrough. *shakes fist at FF.N's formatting shortcomings***_

 _ **Without further ado!**_

 **Prologue: The Letters**

Dear Harry,

Hello! How are you? I do hope your aunt and uncle aren't treating you too badly. I'm enjoying being home of course; Mum and Dad seem to be trying to make up for lost time in terms of spending quality time with me – so many museums! It's brilliant.

I hope you are getting a chance to do something other than just waiting for term to start again. If nothing else, I have faith that you're getting a lot of reading done – and before you say anything about not having the full reading list yet, I'm also sending you a list of books. The ones with the stars next to them have been on the reading list in previous years and the rest are just some that I think might be useful. Enjoy!

Please write back soon – as happy as I am to be home, I've started feeling sometimes that Hogwarts was something I made up or read in a book. I definitely need to keep in touch with the living parts of it (you and Ron) to banish that terrifying thought.

Love from Hermione

* * *

Dear Ron,

Hello! How are you? How are you enjoying summer with your family? Are they all well? I'm enjoying being home of course; Mum and Dad seem to be trying to make up for lost time in terms of spending quality time with me – so many museums! It's brilliant.

I know you're probably getting caught up in whatever mischief goes on in the Weasley household from June to September (I assume a large part of it is Fred and George's doing, but I suppose I'm highly prejudiced) but I'm taking this opportunity to also remind you that you should be doing some reading. I'm sending a list with this letter. The books with stars next to them have been on the reading list in previous years and the rest are just some that I think might be useful. Enjoy!

Try to write back soon, will you? As happy as I am to be home, I think I need to remind myself that Hogwarts was real sometimes!

Love from Hermione

P.S. - Don't try to put off reading until after your mum takes you to Diagon Alley, I know your brothers have copies of a lot of the books on the list, I checked with Percy.

* * *

Hi Hermione!

Good to hear from you. I'm going to write this while ignoring any reference to reading (IT'S SUMMER, STOP) and the fact that you're using Percy against me (like he wasn't hard enough to live with already).

Things are actually pretty quiet here – having Charlie and Bill away is a bit weird. Not that there's not enough of us left to keep Mum busy but Percy being the oldest brother in the house is a nightmare. It's bad enough for me – he keeps going on about choosing O. ? (WE'VE NOT EVEN STARTED SECOND YEAR YET) – but I feel really sorry for Ginny. I reckon he's trying to kill her buzz about starting Hogwarts. She's still bouncing off the walls, no matter how much he goes on about the rules and revision plans or how many horror stories Fred and George tell her. Good for her, I guess. She might as well feel good about it now, before she gets to her first lesson with Snape.

I suppose you're not playing Quidditch and degnoming all day… what do Muggles get up to in the holidays? Please don't tell me it's all museums, that sounds too much like MORE SCHOOL.

Ron

P.S. Have you heard from Harry yet?

* * *

Dear Harry,

Hello, hope you're okay. I thought I'd hear back from you before now… busy with the reading? That's a joke, I think. Ron's extremely offended that I even suggested it to him, and I'm beginning to realise you might feel similarly. Although I don't think that's a good enough reason to be ignoring me.

I'd rather that than some more sinister reason for your silence though. I'm sending this letter through the muggle post in case your aunt and uncle are stopping you getting things by owl. You know if anything really awful is happening you can send word to me or to Ron and I'm sure we could try to sort something out.

He seems to be enjoying his holidays – I suppose neither of us can imagine what it must be like to spend the holidays with such a huge family. Although if he's written to you, you already know that. I'm not jumping to conclusions about what you've read and who you're answering or who you're able to answer. If you can reply, do.

Love from Hermione

P.S. – If you are getting letters but can't reply, I'd just like to remind you that Hogwarts is real and you'll be able to go back soon. In case you need it.

* * *

Dear Ron,

We can agree to disagree about the reading I suppose. Just don't come crawling back to me when you don't know what's going on when we get back.

I can't imagine a world in which having seven people living inside a house equates to things being quiet. I'm sure Percy's not so bad, you and the twins are pretty cruel to him; maybe he deserves to be able to lord it over you for a while.

I forgot about Ginny! I can't imagine a Weasley girl, somehow. How has she survived this long around all of you? It's good that she's so excited, although I suppose watching every other one of her siblings go before her must make her beyond eager. I look forward to meeting her.

In terms of what I'm up to, you're right to assume the severe lack of Quidditch and degnoming(?) although it's not as though I do much of the former in term time either. I don't think the locals would really be able to cope with that. I'm slightly offended at your dismissal of museums as a quality pastime. They're fascinating, and I'd highly recommend you visit one if you're actually interested in muggles and their lives and history.

I'll admit that a lot of what we do is quiet. I read. We watch BBC dramas. We go for walks. They'll have to go back to work soon so I'm just enjoying their company. Although – we did do Monopoly the other day that got pretty heated. Mum wouldn't talk to Dad for the rest of the day. It makes him pretty brutal sometimes.

I've not heard from Harry yet. I wrote him a letter when I sent you that first one and I'm writing another now. Has he talked to you at all?

Love from Hermione

* * *

Hermione,

Don't worry about me not knowing what's going on, no one reads like you do and we all get by. I've never seen Fred holding a book and him and George both get really good marks.

Please don't pity Percy. You've got no clue what it's like living with him – trust me when I say he deserves everything he gets. He's like you but a million times worse. I found his old textbooks on my bed the other day, Hermione. HE'S COMING INTO MY BEDROOM TO LEAVE ME SCHOOL READING AND I BLAME YOU ENTIRELY.

I wish I could forget about Ginny too, to be honest. She won't shut up about Hogwarts and about Harry, of all things. She's obsessed. It's more of a case of us surviving her than the other way around – she can take care of herself. A little too well if you ask me, which she never does.

I'd tell you what degnoming was but I feel like I should be allowed to enjoy the fact that I know something you don't know for as long as I possibly can. Remind me to show you when you come over. Speaking of which, Mum keeps going on at me about inviting you over. I've told her about your quiet time with the parents but she's saying I should still offer. If you get bored of books and walks, let us know and you can get a head start on meeting Ginny.

If 'doing monopoly' makes your parents violent I don't know if you should carry on. Is it some kind of muggle potion? I didn't think your parents were the type to let you start drinking so soon.

Harry's not answered my letter either. Do you reckon something's really wrong at his house, or if it's just his Aunt and Uncle being the usual amount of horrible to him?

Ron

* * *

Dear Harry,

I'm not really expecting an answer back now but I'm going to carry on sending you letters in case you are getting them and are just not able to reply. It's going to start feeling like I'm writing in a diary if you don't respond but you needn't worry too much about be divulging any scandalous secrets – I don't have any.

So what to say? I've been pretty busy myself. A lot of reading, as you'd probably expect. A lot of spending time with my parents, reading and going for walks. We played Monopoly the other day – I told Ron about it and he seemed to get the impression that it was a hard drug. I suppose you know about Monopoly? Maybe I'll try to teach him to play when we get back, although it would probably be a challenge just to pull him away from a chess board.

Stay safe, Harry.

Love from Hermione

* * *

Dear Ron

I'm keeping that letter, and a month from now when you're asking for my help with homework, I'm going to wave it in your face and you're going to tell me to stop looking so smug but I won't. On a side note, I don't think you should be using Fred and George as role models for academic success. Natural talent can only get you so far. Percy's got the right idea – it takes hard work. Time management. Drive.

Ginny sounds amazing. You can't blame her for being fascinated by Harry – weren't you as curious when you first met him? The Boy Who Lived himself, sitting across from you. I'd only read about him in that last year after I found out I was a witch, I can't imagine what it must be like for people who've been hearing about him their whole lives. Really, it's remarkable he gets along as he does in school, though I suppose you get used to celebrity.

It's really sweet of your mum to offer but I think I'm going to make the most of the time I've got with my parents. I will definitely take you up on that offer someday soon though. I might even bring Monopoly.

I don't know about Harry. I don't think we should worry too much. From what he said about his aunt and uncle, I wouldn't put it past them to be stopping him sending Hedwig out. I don't think they'd do anything to really hurt him though. They hadn't so far, had they? Before he came to Hogwarts, I mean. It's more neglect than cruelty… I'm sure he's fine.

Love from Hermione

* * *

Hermione,

How would I know the difference between your usual smug face and a particularly smug face? I didn't think you had any control over it, honestly.

Fred and George are well chuffed that you said they've got natural talent by the way. And they read out what you said about Percy too, so he's walking about with a head twice the usual size too. I think the twins are using your letters as a weekly entertainment, they keep quoting stuff at me. I think they know what Monopoly is – they must have found out from Lee – and they find it hilarious that I don't BUT WON'T TELL ME. Honestly, Hermione, you're lucky you don't have siblings.

Oh, Ginny says she's excited to meet you too. The twins told her about taking down that troll that Halloween and it looks like you're on the same level as Harry on her idolizing scale. I keep reminding everybody that it was me that did the actual magic that knocked the thing out but they all mysteriously go deaf every time I point it out.

I've been talking to Fred and George about-

Okay Mum says I have to tell you the offer still stands about coming to stay if you change your mind, -happy now?-

-about Harry and they think we might have to go and rescue him from his family. I don't really know what you mean about neglect and cruelty – aren't they the same thing? If he's having a bad time of it we need to help him out! Aren't you worried about him?

Ron

* * *

Happy Birthday Harry!

I can believe you're only turning twelve now. I'm thirteen in a couple of months! Ah, to be young and foolish.

No but really, I hope you manage to have good day, no matter what your aunt and uncle – and your cousin, actually – do to try to make it awful. I'm still optimistic that you're getting these letters, even if you can't write back. I won't risk sending you a birthday present but I swear I'll give you something when we get back to Hogwarts. Or if I see you sooner than that.

Ron seems to think you need rescuing. Fred and George are likely feeding his paranoia. They probably think it would be a bit of a laugh to show up at your aunt and uncle's and whisk you away but I don't know if they realise that doing that might make things worse for you. Ron's accusing me of not caring about what's happening to you, like I'm not worrying about this. Ridiculous.

I know you've survived them this long, though, and I know you'll probably have to survive them a good while longer. I'm not sure having more wizarding friends aggravating the situation would be the most helpful thing. I really hope Ron and the others don't do anything to make the rest of the time you have to spend over there harder than it has to be.

Sorry, I don't mean to be so pessimistic. It's your birthday! You should be happy. I hope you are.

Love,

Hermione

* * *

Ron,

Ha ha. The frequency with which I have opportunity to use my smug face should just tell you how often I am so right. Something to think about. Be prepared to beg for mercy, Ronald.

Speaking of Weasley boys being entirely wrong, I never said that Fred and George had natural talent. My point was that you have to work to get somewhere in life, and that the fact they they're not right now doesn't mean they'll never have to!

I don't appreciate being a running joke, by the way. I didn't realise my letters to you were being shared with the whole family. As that seems to be the case, I might as well talk to them individually:

Mrs Weasley, thank you so much for your kind offer. I really appreciate how lovely you've been to me.

Percy, you're quite right to feel good about yourself, you work hard and you deserve credit for that, and your siblings will regret their actions if they don't follow your example soon.

Ginny, I wouldn't believe everything your brothers tell you but I am looking forward to meeting you and I do hope we can be friends.

Fred and George, I never said you had natural talent, you should take no compliments from my previous letter.

There. As for you Ron, I don't appreciate you implying that I'm not worried about Harry. Of course I am. But you can't save him from something he's already been living with for eleven years. He can handle himself, and anything you do now could make it worse! Please don't do anything stupid.

Hermione

P.S. – Fred, George, stop encouraging him. This isn't a game, this is Harry's life.

* * *

Hermione,

You're not right all the time, but you are a nightmare most of the time. Something for you to think about. I wouldn't bother arguing with Fred and George if I were you. Like I said, they're pretty good at ignoring things they don't want to hear.

I won't reply to the bits of your letter that weren't addressed to me. If any of them want to write back they can use their own parchment.

-And don't get-

Except Mum, who says it's no trouble and that you're always welcome.

And don't get hissy at me for sharing your letters. It's not like I announce them and call everybody in – do you know how hard it is to find a private space for letter writing in this house? Believe me when I say it's affecting me more than it's affecting you. I notice you haven't told me what a Monopoly is, by the way. 

I don't appreciate you talking to me like I'm a kid. You can think whatever you want about Harry and his awful family but if there's something I can do to get him out of there, then I will. Fred and George have got it figured out. If he doesn't write back in the next week, we're going to go get him. It might be a bit tricky but with the three of us… We'll be fine. Sorry.

Love,

Ron.

* * *

Dear Hermione,

I'm just writing to say how lovely it was for you to mention me in your last letter to Ron. It's nice to get appreciated for once! Good luck with the reading for next year and I hope to be in your extremely pleasant company again soon.

Yours sincerely,

Percy Weasley

* * *

Hey Hermione!

It was really nice of you to talk to me in Ron's letter. You sound like someone I'd love to be friends with. I'm crazy excited to meet you – make it soon?

Yours,

Ginny

* * *

Granger,

You can't take those words back. We have it here, in black and white – your favourite and most trusted form of information: Paper and ink. "I don't think you should be using Fred and George as role models for academic success. Natural talent can only get you so far." It's heavily implied that the second sentence is linked to the first. So there. We'll take all the compliments we want.

About Harry, we know you're worried that we're not taking this seriously but we are. Well. As seriously as we take anything. But really, you should stop underestimating us. We, Ron and Harry, safe and sound, will be seeing you soon.

Love and kisses,

Fred and George

P.S. – We noticed you didn't tell Ron what Monopoly was either. We know you're on our side, really.


	2. Chapter One: Second Storey Boys

_**Author's Note: Guess who's back, b*tches.**_

 _ **(It's me! Lapis! Don't you remember me from... months... ago?)**_

* * *

"Look, no hands!" Fred used his legs to pull the front of the broom up so that it spun over his head, launching him into a backward somersault even as he kept his arms outstretched, an axis to spin around. This was the victorious position he finished in, arms open, hovering fifteen feet in the air looking down at his twin standing on the ground.

The Quaffle sailed past him and into the old goal hoop at the bottom of their garden.

"Oi!"

"Maybe try and keep your eye on the ball next time?" George said, picking the Quaffle up from the ground as it rolled back to him.

"Oh, come on. You should have been too busy admiring my skills to even chuck it in the first place."

"Sure, sure – except I was there when Charlie taught it you, and got it faster anyway." George threw the ball again and this time Fred darted to the right to catch it, securing it under his arm, and feeling the warm buzz of its magic against his ribs.

"As if!" Fred called indignantly, "I did it way before you!"

Then, suddenly, he felt the Quaffle dislodge sharply from his side, kicked through the loop of his arm and down. Before he could register what had happened, his little sister appeared below him, having plucked the ball from mid-air. She spun round to face him, grinning.

"Well, I got it before either of you, so there."

"So that's where our other broom was!" George exclaimed from the ground, "Give it back Ginny! And the Quaffle!"

When they were all around it was a lot easier to keep their baby sister away from brooms and flying balls. Bill was old enough that when he said something to her, she usually listened – even if she did huff and puff while she did it. Besides, they didn't have enough brooms for them all. When Bill, Charlie, Ron and the two of them played (Percy hadn't joined in Quidditch since he'd turned ten) there wasn't a free broom for her to commandeer. With the eldest two brothers abroad, however, Ginny had started taking liberties.

Fred put on his best Big Brother voice.

"Get back on the ground, Ginny. You don't even know how to fly properly."

She laughed coldly, with a somewhat unnerving look in her eye. "How would you know? You never let me play long enough to see."

Fred waited. This was an old battle, and one that had already been won more than once through intervention from the parents. They both agreed she was too small to be messing around with something as dangerous as Quidditch. He could see she knew where this was headed.

"Fine, have your stupid ball. I don't want to play with you anyway." She threw the Quaffle with alarming force directly at Fred's head. He ducked just in time to avoid decapitation and spun 180 degrees to see it shoot through the goal hoop. By the time he'd turned back around, she had touched down, and was thrusting the Cleansweep into George's chest.

"Ron wants to talk to you, by the way," she snapped, as she began storming indoors.

"About what?!" Fred called down.

"How am I supposed to know?" She shouted back without turning around, "No one here lets me in on anything." The door slammed shut behind her and they both took a second to let the harsh sound of it dissipate.

"Told you the good mood couldn't last forever." George swung a leg over his broom and kicked off, joining his twin in hovering in mid-air.

"It looked like she'd go all the way to the train," Fred lamented, putting his hand into his pocket, "what did we say, a Sickle?"

"It's not July yet – two Sickles. Don't make out you've forgotten." He held out his hand and Fred deposited the coins into his palm.

Bets between them were largely arbitrary. They usually pooled any money they had together anyway, but it kept things interesting to have a few wagers going on, and everyone else in their vicinity had learnt to stop betting against them. Even Ron didn't rise to the bait these days. As a result, they bet against each other instead, exchanging petty money on the outcomes. This one had resulted from a conversation about Ginny, who'd been almost insufferably giddy since they'd come home for the holidays. After eleven years of watching her older brothers embark on the journey to Hogwarts, she was finally old enough to board the train herself. Honestly, it had sort of crept up on them. It felt like they'd only started a year ago – Ron seemed hardly old enough, let alone Ginny. Speaking of their youngest brother…

"D'you wanna go see what Ron wants?"

"Probably after another chocoball, the great lump."

They ascended together, and followed the outside walls of The Burrow over the garage and round to Ron's bedroom window. Their brother was sitting on his bed, holding what looked like a letter in his hand. As they approached Fred saw that he was rolling one of the corners between his fingers over and over again, wearing the parchment out.

"Oi, Ronniekins!" he called, as they came to a stop on either side of the windowpane, "What's up?"

Ron leapt up from the bed, holding the letter out like a weapon as he whipped round to look at them.

"Stop doing that!" he shouted, half-relaxing when he saw it was them.

"You called us, Ronnie," George pointed out, moving aside so Ron could open his window wider to talk to them.

"I thought maybe you'd use the door!"

"Then you don't know us very well, do you?" Fred answered.

Ron opened his mouth as if to retort and then seemed to catch sight of the letter he was holding in his hand again. He stopped before he said a word and shook his head. Fred and George exchanged a look. Not only had he given up on arguing with them one exchange into a fight, but he'd let them call him Ronnie twice without comment. Something was really off.

"That another letter from Granger?" George asked. He rose a little to try and get a better look at the parchment but Ron threw it away from him and out of view.

"How come we didn't see it in the morning?" Fred asked, frowning, "Did you sneak it up here?"

They'd taken to enjoying her letters together, often stealing them from Errol before Ron even got to them. This had the dual value of entertaining them and irritating Ron. Fred hadn't actually thought Ron was capable of receiving mail without them knowing.

"It's Harry, isn't it?" George was looking at Ron with an assessing gaze.

Their little brother nodded.

"What, Harry's finally sent a letter?" Fred looked between Ron and George. "Why would he hide that?"

George shook his head. "No, he's written to Granger about Harry, and she's said something in this one about it. Right?"

"Yeah."

Oh. Course. As worried as their Mum was, she had been repeatedly telling them all to leave it alone. Bringing it up again over breakfast was a sure-fire path to getting roundly yelled at and then given a double quota of chores to keep them busy.

"She says the same thing as mum," Ron continued, like he'd been reading Fred's mind, "but it's been weeks. Those muggles could have done anything to him by now!" He picked up the letter again from the bed, and addressed it like the paper itself was contradicting him. "I need to do something."

There was a pause.

"Like what?" asked George. He'd leant up against the wall next to the window now, one elbow resting against it and his hand buried in his own red hair, tugging. Fred recognised the sign of stress and checked his own posture, a mirror image. He ran his other hand through his hair one last time before forcing himself to put both arms down by his sides, straightening up. George glanced at him for a fraction of a second and did the same.

"I don't know!" Ron almost wailed, pacing between them now, worrying the parchment with his fingers again "Go get him?"

The twins let out synchronised disbelieving snorts.

"And how are you going to do that?" George asked.

Ron looked up from the letter and then between them, throwing his arms up incredulously. "What, you can read my letters but you can't help me save Harry from his family?"

Fred looked at George. George looked at Fred.

"Two things," Fred began, directing the broom closer to the open window.

"Firstly, we haven't read that letter," and even as George said it, Fred whipped his hand out and pulled it from Ron's distractedly weak grip.

"Yet."

"Secondly," George continued loudly, drowning out Ron's frustrated yell.

"You can't call those muggles his family." Fred looked up from unfolding the letter to raise his eyebrows pointedly at Ron. Looking back down at the parchment, his eyes caught on  
an underlined section:

 _Fred and George, I never said you had natural talent, you should take no compliments from my previous letter._

He felt the corner of his mouth pull up even as he continued addressing his little brother. This time he and George spoke as one, leaving no room for response or argument.

"We're family."

Fred watched Ron's face shift as he figured out that they were agreeing to help. He was maybe a little slow, their brother, but he managed to understand the important things.

"LUNCH!" They all started at the sound of Ginny's voice bouncing off the walls from the staircase behind Ron's door. The following series of stomping footsteps indicated that she had yet to cheer up. They all waited in silent agreement until the steps had faded away again.

"Still don't know how we're gonna do it though," Fred pointed out to Ron. He finished skim reading Granger's letter and held it out to his twin. George, however, didn't seem to be paying attention. His eyes were trained further away, towards the ground. Fred turned his broom to follow his brother's gaze, landing on the garage attached to the side of the house.

"I might have an idea," he said.

* * *

 ** _Hullo all, so good to see you again. Or I guess, if this is your first encounter with me, good to see you at all._**  
 ** _ **The unthinkable has happened. I've finished** with uni and have actually written enough of this fic that I feel like I can start posting. I know. It's amazing._**

 ** _Let me know in the comments what you're expecting/wanting from this book! How's it going so far? ;P_**


	3. Chapter Two: Second Nature

_**Hey guys, just to clarify, this fic will still be mostly Hermione up until her petrification. Fred's chapters will tend to be shorter than hers until then too (I think). Not sure how regularly I'll be able to upload, but I am pretty free now, and I have quite a lot already down so fingers crossed I can get back into the swing of things :')**_

* * *

Hermione was standing in front of a brick wall, biting her lip. It wasn't a position she had found herself in often; she'd never gotten in trouble in primary school and, anyway, their punishments had been more about introspection and writing apology letters than playground exile. She had to remind herself that this wasn't about exclusion. This was a way in. If she could manage it.

It was amazing that after an entire year of magical education, she still had trouble trying to convince herself of the magical blood in her veins. Maybe it had something to do with the solidity of the brick wall in front of her.

"Hermione?" her mother's voice was gentle even as it questioned her, "is everything alright?"

"Are you sure we're in the right place, love?" added her dad.

Hermione shook her head and turned to look at them, hoisting a smile up onto her face. "Of course," she answered both questions simultaneously and tried to pretend she hadn't noticed the slightly too-high pitch of her voice.

This was all fine. This was all just the following of written instructions. Professor McGonagall's letter had been clear. She, busy with the new wave of first year muggleborns, would not be able to accompany Hermione into Diagon Alley this August. Instead, she would leave Hermione with exactly all the information she needed to make the trip herself, and trust her to arrive at Kings Cross on September 1st will all that was required of her.

It felt different this time. Without her Head of House to follow, attempting to find her way back into the wizarding world felt like a test of her own skill. Actually, no. It didn't take _skill_ to get through to Diagon Alley. She'd memorized the pattern of bricks to tap the first time she'd seen Professor McGonagall do it, a year ago almost to the day, and if she'd somehow forgotten, it was all there in black and white on the roll of parchment in her pocket. It was not skill which would mean the wall behind The Leaky Cauldron opened up for her now. No muggle could ever get through this barrier by themselves. Like all the defences the magical world put up against discovery, it was dependent on the one thing that could never be stolen or imitated.

It was magic. This was a test of her worthiness to occupy the magical world. Just like seeing Hogwarts for the first time – not as a ruin but as its magnificent, glorious self – had been. It put her in mind of the trials that had protected the Philosopher's Stone last year; would the tests never end? Would she never be certain of her ability to pass? _You made it through those,_ she thought to herself firmly, _and much more besides._ She could do this.

With her breath held, she raised her wand and tapped it against the bricks. _One, two three, four, fivesixseven._ She started at the wall. _Come on_ , she thought fiercely, _you can't keep me out forever._ And then the bricks started moving. She let out a sigh even as her parents' gasps sounded behind her. _One more down_ , she thought, as, from behind the bricks and dust, the magical world came into view.

* * *

Her parents, bless them, were doing their best. Her father had walked into exactly three people on their relatively short journey from the alley entrance to Gringotts, every time because his eyes had caught on something marvellous across the way and could not be pulled back to the direction they were going. It gave her mother something to do, at least.

She kept making a show of dramatically puffing out air as she tugged on his elbow, long suffering sighs like _what is he like? Can't he just deal with the fact that our daughter is a witch and lives in this strange and fabulous world?_ It might have fooled Hermione if she hadn't noticed the way her fingers dug a little too hard into her husband's shirtsleeve, how she was leaning slightly too heavily on him, unsteady.

It was almost as strange an experience for Hermione herself. Seeing her dentist parents standing amidst people rushing past in robes, holding wands and various magical pets, ducking around shops selling cauldrons and broomsticks… it was like reading a Narnia book only to have Miss Honey from Roald Dahl's _Matilda_ wander in half-way through a battle. It was hard to believe it could ever make sense. _Although_ , she thought idly, _maybe a Miss Honey was exactly what the White Witch needed._

"Hermione!" Her father's voice came from further behind her than she'd thought he was, and she supressed a sigh. She called back without turning around or even slowing down, her eyes fixed on the enormous white building ahead.

"Dad, I know, it's amazing, but we really do need to –"

"Hermione, stop!" Her mother, too, appeared to have become distracted.

Reluctantly, Hermione obeyed; she couldn't go in without either of them. As she turned, it was hard to keep the tension out of her voice.

"I thought we agreed to stick to the schedule, mum. You can have a look around later…"

"Are you the parent or am I?" Her voice was suddenly firm, and Hermione noted with some alarm, the hands-on-hips pose she had adopted, a few steps down.

Her face flushed and she bit her lip. "Sorry. I'm just a little stressed…"

"We hadn't noticed." Her father deadpanned as he caught up with them.

"We've just spotted something that might help you out with that," her mum said, ignoring her husband.

Hermione took in her quirked mouth with confusion but before she had a chance to ask, dad had nodded over towards the alley below. She followed their gazes and –

" _Harry!_ " she shouted, and her legs were already carrying her down the steps; she dimly registered her parent's stifled laughter as she flew past them. "Harry! Over here!"

* * *

It had been about a week since she heard from Ron telling her that he, Fred and George had managed to get Harry back to their house in complete and utter safety but she had had the faintest suspicion that he was keeping some of the details from her. To see him standing in front of her lifted a weight she hadn't realised she was carrying from her chest. Although – he actually looked a bit of a mess… and why wasn't he surrounded by redheads?

"What happened to your glasses?" She said as soon as she reached him. Before he could answer, she started as she registered the presence of the Hogwarts games keeper by his side – how had she missed him?

"Hello Hagrid – Oh, it's wonderful to see you two again – Are you coming into Gringotts, Harry?" She glanced behind her to see her parents watching them from the stairs, leaning into each other in a smiling conversation.

"As soon as I've found the Weasleys," Harry replied.

"Yeh won't have long ter wait," Hagrid said with a grin.

For the second time that day, Hermione whirled around to see a familiar face. Well – five familiar faces. Mr Weasley, Ron, Fred, George and Percy were sprinting up the crowded street towards them. Hermione felt her smile grow even wider. Ron spotted her and beamed back as the crowd of Weasleys reached Harry, Hagrid and herself.

"Harry," Mr. Weasley panted, "We hoped you'd only gone one grate too far…" He mopped his glistening head. "Molly's frantic – she's coming now –"

They'd travelled by Floo, then.

"Where did you come out?" Ron asked.

"Knockturn Alley," said Hagrid grimly.

" _Excellent!_ " Said Fred and George together even as Hermione gasped in shock. She'd heard Lavender and Parvati discussing Knockturn Alley in hushed voices more than once – no wonder Harry looked so ragged!

"We've never been allowed in," said Ron enviously

"I should ruddy well think not," growled Hagrid, and Hermione couldn't help but agree.

As Mrs. Weasley appeared and Harry and Hagrid both became occupied with dealing with her gratitude and ministrations, Hermione turned to the Weasley boys.

"… heard they've got stuff from all the old Death Eater collections – "

"I hope you're not still talking about Knockturn Alley," said Hermione primly, cutting George off mid-sentence. "It's a perfectly horrid place and you should count yourselves lucky that you haven't had to end up there."

Ron, Fred and George each turned their heads to her with varying degrees of exasperation. Fred was the brother who recovered his faculties enough to talk first.

"Anyone would think you were the one who went down there," he said, raising his eyebrows at her, "Hullo, by the way, lovely to see you too."

"I don't need to have been there to know it's awful," Hermione retorted. "Although I suppose – horribly dangerous – isn't that your favourite kind of day trip?" She glared at them. "Don't think Ron didn't tell me it was your idea to go off risking everyone's lives and permanent records."

She saw something odd in the look the twins shared as she said this, but it was gone in half a second, indecipherable.

"Depends on where you're getting your information from, doesn't it?" George argued, "Swot like you, isn't citing your sources what it's all about?"

For a moment, Hermione could feel her mouth working, and her face began getting warmer as the window for clever response began slipping away –

"Hermione's right, boys," said Percy, stepping into the group from behind his father, "It's common knowledge that Knockturn Alley houses the highest concentration of illegal and otherwise dangerous markets in the country. If you were really interested in seeking out credible sources to support the public image than it wouldn't be hard to find them." He pushed his horn-rimmed glasses further up his nose and Hermione pressed her lips together to hide a smile.

"It's good to see you, Percy," she said, holding out a hand.

"Likewise," he replied warmly, shaking it.

"Ugh, get a room." Fred groaned, rolling his eyes dramatically.

"Fred!" Percy and Ron reproached, in sync.

Hermione supressed a laugh. "You missed me," she stated, a little smugly.

"We missed arguing with you," George corrected, "and Perce has just ruined that."

"It was just getting good, wasn't it?" She mused.

"We'll pick it up later," Fred assured her. "Plenty of time." He smiled then, something more honest than the teasing smirks of earlier.

"I suppose so." And in a moment of weakness, she allowed herself to grin back.

* * *

 _ **Thanks** **for reading! As always, comments and critique are everything to me; I live in constant fear I'm disappointing you, so counteracting kindness is always appreciated :')**_

 _ **3**_


	4. Chapter Three: Double Bluff

_**Yep, still here!**_

* * *

"Thanks for not telling her," said Ron, sheepishly. He looked around as though Granger might suddenly appear again beside them, even though they'd just watched her disappear back into the bank, presumably to find her parents again.

Fred and George raised their eyebrows in unison.

"She'd have been angry at me for ages! And I'm the one that has to hang around with her all the time!"

"Oh, it's no problem, little brother of ours," said George, with a wicked smile.

This was actually true. Fourteen years of being… well… them meant they were pretty used to taking the hit for hare-brained schemes, catastrophic accidents etc. etc. Taking the credit for Ron's urge to go and steal Harry back from his Aunt and Uncle was barely a drop in the ocean. Besides, it wasn't as though Ron would have been able to pull it off without them – they deserved credit. Granger's anger (short-lived as it was) was a badge of honour. But Ron didn't need to know that.

"Of course, we didn't need to take the heat for you," Fred said slowly.

"Heat! That wasn't – " Ron had the look of someone who had suddenly realised that person who'd broken his fall with a cushioning charm also had a potion that needed his intact bones.

"Relax Ronniekins," said George, slapping his little brother on the back, "we just want you to remember we did this favour for you."

He was smiling, they both were, but Fred saw the touch of fear in Ron's scowl.

"You've done worse to me before, doesn't it even out?" He went for angry but there was a mild desperation in his voice.

Fred supressed the urge to laugh as he imagined what horrific retribution Ron foresaw.

"If we need anything we'll let you know." He said, ignoring Ron's protest and pulling away with his twin before either of them could ruin things by laughing out loud. They had a whole year's mischief to accomplish, and now they had two younger siblings around who were likely to get into hardly less trouble. It was always useful to have an ace tucked away in case of emergency. Or – as they turned their attention away from Ron, Fred shared a brief look with his twin – a sound pair of jokers.

* * *

 _ **It's a tidbit, but there will be more soon - keep a lookout ;)**_

 _ **On another note, I'd just like to mention how grateful I am for everyone who has left comments and reviews/favourited this work. Sharing the experience of this fic with you all is what really motivates me 3**_


	5. Chapter Four: Two Worlds Colliding

_**Told ya there'd be more soon ^.^**_

As Hermione, Harry and the Weasleys walked back up the marble steps to the bank, Harry brought up the subject of the Malfoys, who it turned out he'd run into during his misadventure in Knockturn Alley. According to him, Malfoy senior was just as bad as his son. _Surprise, surprise._

"Oh, I'd love to get Lucius Malfoy for something…"

"You be careful Arthur," said Mrs. Weasley, and the tone was so familiar that Hermione instantly remembered that her own mother and father were still inside waiting for her. With a gasp, she hurried ahead to get to them.

"Mum, Dad!" She said breathlessly as she saw them standing near the counter, apparently sorting through their own funds.

"Hello again," said her father cheerfully, "Remembered us, have you?"

"What happened to your friends?" her mother asked, frowning.

"They're just catching up now," said Hermione impatiently, "Listen, Mr and Mrs Weasley will probably want to meet you but you'll have to be really polite okay? If they say anything that sounds strange or if they mention something you don't understand just nod and then you can ask me later and I can maybe explain it to you or something, but it's really important that we don't make it weird that they're wizards and you're not or that this is your first time here or that –"

"Hermione!" Her mother was suddenly filling her vision, her hands firmly on her shoulders. "Take a breath, would you? It's going to be – is that them?"

"Gosh, they really are all very ginger, aren't they?"

Hermione was on the verge of bursting into tears with the sheer overwhelming stress of it when Mr Weasley's delighted voice cut through her anxiety like a pin popping a balloon.

"But you're _Muggles_!" he said, "We must have a drink! What's that you've got there? Oh you're changing Muggle money." This seemed to be possibly the most exciting thing Mr Weasley had ever seen, and he pointed at the notes in their hands with so much enthusiasm that he almost knocked them out of her father's grip. "Molly look!"

"Yes, Arthur, I _can_ see that too," Mrs Weasley had gone faintly pink but was ploughing ahead with pulling Hermione's mother into a surprise hug nevertheless.

"Molly Weasley, dear, and this is Arthur. These –" she gestured at her red-headed entourage and Harry "– are all ours, of course, but I don't know if there's time to introduce them all."

Hermione's mother laughed and introduced herself.

"… and don't worry, Hermione tells us so much about your family I feel we've already known them for years."

Hermione could see her taking in the curious gaggle behind Mrs. Weasley's shoulder, zeroing in on those she could easiest identify from Hermione's letters.

"You're Harry, of course," she said to the only non-ginger, smiling kindly, and Hermione recognised the slightly uncomfortable, startled expression Harry wore when anyone approached him with a vaguely motherly manner. She looked at the gangly boy beside him. "Which means you're… Ron?"

Hermione nodded as her mother sent an enquiring glance at her. Not to be outdone, Hermione's father joined in the identification game.

"And you're the twins!" he said triumphantly, nodding at Fred and George.

"How did you guess?" they said together.

"Boys!" Mrs Weasley said disapprovingly, but Hermione's father was laughing.

"You live up to what Hermione tells us," he said, and Hermione crossed her arms over her chest as the boys turned to her with mock indignation.

"Why, Hermione," said George, "have you been spreading nasty rumours about us?"

"She just resents us because we try to keep her on the straight and narrow." Fred confided in a stage whisper, loud enough to drown out Hermione's scoffing.

"Oh yes, our Hermione is quite the troublemaker," her father said drily.

"I'm sure the boys will continue to mould her into a model student," said Mrs Weasley, with a warning look and gentle nudge to all of them towards a Goblin who was waiting impatiently on the sidelines, "but we really must be off for now."

"It was lovely to meet you all," Hermione's mother said warmly, as the women hugged again, and with a quick promise from Ron to meet them back there, the crowd was gone.

"There, wasn't so bad was it?"

Hermione resisted the urge to roll her eyes fondly at the smug expression on her father's face.

"No, not bad at all," she replied.

* * *

With the socialising over – aside from one awkward attempt by her father to engage their goblin in friendly conversation – Hermione's parents finally got around to exchanging their pounds for wizarding money, and depositing the majority of it into the account that Professor McGonagall had opened for her the previous summer. The bored sounding goblin also reminded them of the possibility of paying for a larger sized vault should they want to store any significant volume of valuables there. Her parents were so busy gazing at the figures and illustrations moving around on the informational leaflet that Hermione was the one who stepped in to politely decline the offer.

By the time they'd gotten themselves organised, the Weasleys and Harry had returned to the lobby, and Mr Weasley immediately made a beeline for them.

"Hullo again! All sorted?"

"Yes, we've just about managed – although I still for the life of me can't remember how the currency works here."

Hermione's face flamed at her mother's response. How could she say something like that? Now the Weasleys would all think that they were –

"Merlin!" Mr Weasley cried delightedly, "I've been meaning to find out a bit more about Muggle coins myself! What do you say we hash it out over a butterbeer, hmm?"

"A what-beer, sorry?" Her father enquired curiously.

"You're not telling me there's no butterbeer in the Muggle world?" Mr Weasley looked scandalised, looking from Mr and Mrs Granger to Hermione and back again. "But now you definitely have to come – no visit of Diagon Alley is complete without a drink in The Leaky Cauldron."

Hermione's parents both turned to her enquiringly.

"I'm sure Hermione would appreciate the time to catch up with Ron and Harry," added Mrs Weasley, smiling encouragingly at them.

Hermione was tempted for a moment to refuse. Her instinctive desire was to monitor every one of her parents' interactions with the wizarding world, the same part of her that had been terrified to have them meet the Weasleys in the first place was screaming that they should under no circumstances be left alone with them. Looking into their reassuring eyes, and Mr Weasley's enthusiastic face, and Mrs Weasley's comforting smile…

"Of course," she said, "You go on."

"Do we need to send Fred and George with you to keep you out of trouble?" Her mother said, the corner of her mouth quirking up.

Hermione glanced at the twins' identical surprised smirks and then at Harry and Ron, rolling her eyes. "I'm sure these two will be enough for now," she said, stepping back between the latter pair and tugging on their sleeves. "But I'll let you know if I need you."

This last part was directed at the group they were leaving in general, and it seemed to have a strange effect. In a peculiar moment of synchronicity, the twins and her parents all seemed to shift. Fred and George's heads turned to each other as though this warranted some secret, silent communication, while her mother and father… It was a tiny movement, nothing anyone else would notice but – they had _flinched._

"You do that," her mother said, with a too-light tone.

Hermione couldn't understand why she sounded like that, why her father looked sad, even as he sent her an energetic wave. Before she could even formulate an explanation, they had already turned away and the moment had passed. Shaking her head clear, she turned too. From the top of the marble steps, they could see Diagon Alley laid out before them like a feast. Hermione caught her own excitement reflected in Harry's face and they grinned at each other. If anyone understood what it was like to back here after so long, it was him.

"Come on, then!" Ron had already begun walking down the steps.

Her other world was calling her.

 _ ***sniffs* I'm just so glad all my children are together again *sniffs***_


	6. Chapter Five: Two is Fun

_**... three's a crowd! Poor Ginny.**_

* * *

Fred nudged George with his elbow as they made their way back down the marble steps of Gringotts, and directed his gaze down to where Lee Jordan walking down the street, easy to spot in a brightly coloured T-shirt.

"We're okay to head off, right, mum?" he asked. He reached to take his share of the money she'd retrieved from the vault but she pulled her hand away quickly – she was too used to them to give in so quickly.

"You buy the necessities first," she stated pointedly, "I want your cauldron replaced _before_ you step foot anywhere near a joke shop."

"'Course, mum," said George soothingly, "we wouldn't dream of anything else."

She raised an eyebrow but held out the few coins she could spare, and Fred took them from her palm before she could change her mind. Ron was practically already gone with Harry and Hermione, and Percy had mysteriously disappeared – it was about time they got away from their parents and did some _proper_ shopping.

"Can I –?"

Fred started. He'd almost forgotten Ginny was here too, attached glumly to Mum's side; her tiny frame got lost easily in the crowd of their family group. But it didn't matter; it sounded like Mum couldn't care less what Ginny wanted to do either.

"We'll all meet at Flourish and Blotts in an hour to buy your schoolbooks," she said, drowning out her daughter's half-formed request and setting off towards Madam Malkin's. Ginny twisted around and met both the twins' eyes in turn, desperation clear.

"And not one step down Knockturn Alley!"

 _Sorry_ , they mouthed in sync, and then they were gone.

* * *

 _ **More to come, but you should know that your beloved author has gone and got themselves employed(ish) so I deeply** **deeeeeply** **appreciate your patience. As ever, feedback gives me life. See you soon 3**_


	7. Chapter Six: Three's a Party

_**Surprise, still here!**_

* * *

Hermione's heart fluttered slightly as she watched her parents disappear with Mr. and Mrs. Weasley, but as she fell into step with Harry and Ron she resolved to let her worries go. The boys made it surprisingly easy; there was something deeply wonderful about being around them again. She realised she had never felt this before, the way a friendship could pick up where it left off, so easily and with such little ceremony. She could feel the same warm joy radiating off of the both of them and revelled in the fact that it was due – at least partly – to her role in the group, the way they all fit back into each other to make something complete and comfortable. It was as though they had never been apart at all.

"How about some ice-cream?" said Harry, and Hermione watched his eyes catch on the Ice Cream Parlour's window display, complete with self-scooping balls of ice-cream in unlikely colours dancing around each other and mixing into swirling galaxies in mid-air. It occurred to her that Harry probably never got anything even remotely close to dessert while he was living at home, but the sudden dark thought was quickly interrupted by Ron.

"Fortescue's, yes!" he exclaimed, heading towards the door without a glance backward, "definitely the best part of being in Diagon Alley."

"Trust you to think the food is the best part of one of the most interesting hubs of magical commerce in the world," Hermione rolled her eyes, even as she followed him.

"Peanut butter, I think – here's hoping it glues Hermione's tongue to the roof of her mouth so she'll stop saying words like 'commerce'." He did look back then, the cheeky smile almost twin-esque. "And strawberry," he added, "that's your favourite, right?"

Hermione supressed a smirk. "It is," she admitted. She looked over at Harry in exasperation but he only grinned and shrugged in a 'what-can-you-do' way, as he passed a handful of coins to Florean.

They slurped happily as they wandered up the alley, examining the fascinating shop windows. Ron gazed longingly at a full set of Chudley Cannon robes in the windows of Quality Quidditch Supplies until Hermione dragged them off to buy ink and parchment next door. As they approached a shop with a storefront even brighter and more dynamic than Fortescue's had been, Ron spoke again:

"I've changed my mind," he said seriously, "this is the best thing in Diagon Alley."

" _Gambol and Japes Wizarding Joke Shop_ ," Hermione read the sign out loud, "I've never been in here."

"Me neither," said Harry.

"This was how mum and dad convinced Fred and George to come shopping in their first year, promising to take them here after they got all their books and robes and stuff."

They walked in and a loud honking noise emitted from the door instead of the usual bell. At the other end of the densely stocked room, Hermione spotted Fred and George Weasley along with Lee Jordon, apparently pulling things off shelves at random. _Speak of the devils._

Harry was too busy staring around in awe, so it was Hermione who greeted them.

"Fancy meeting you here," she said as they neared the other trio.

The twins both straightened suddenly, hands disappearing behind their backs for a moment before they seemed to process the situation properly and relax.

"Hullo again, Granger," said Fred, and the other two smiled and raised their hands in greeting.

"Not here to stock up on supplies for your nefarious schemes are you?" asked George, "because we shall have to tell your parents, and don't think we won't."

Hermione batted away his wagging finger and scoffed, "Sounds more like your kind of thing. Why did you try to hide your –" she glanced at the boxes in their hands "– fireworks from us?"

"Instinct," they said together.

"Sometimes you sound a lot like Mum." George supplied.

"I – _what_?" It was one thing to admire Mrs Weasley but to _become_ her? From behind her, Hermione heard Ron snort and turned to glare at him.

"Merlin, are you trying to look like her too?"

"You're ridiculous," she said sullenly, aware that her cheeks were heating up.

"We try," said Fred with a grin.

"Oi, Fred," said Lee, who had turned back to the shelves in the meantime, "What do you think?" He was holding up a box labelled _Serpentine Smoke Bombs_. Fred cocked his head to the side and made a noncommittal noise.

"Bit Slytherin, innit?" Ron said.

Hermione looked at the box closer. From what she could see, the firework barely had any magics at all, maybe even just something to keep the shape slightly more defined than a muggle smoke bomb.

"Not to mention unimaginative," she commented, without thinking.

The boys all turned to look at her in surprise and she bit her lip, glancing over at the woman behind the till, making sure she hadn't heard her insulting the stock.

"She's right," said Harry nodding, as he took the box from Lee's hands and turned it to see the back, "my cousin used to steal these from muggle shops and they basically look like snakes when you set them off anyway."

"Too bad there's not something lion shaped, really," Hermione said jokingly. She began to regret it immediately as she watched the effect it had on Fred, George and Lee.

They shared a look between them and seemed suddenly to be brimming with strange tense energy.

"We have to go." Said Fred abruptly. "We'll see you later." And with that, they scooped up their armfuls of fireworks and took them to the till.

"What on Earth was that?" asked Hermione incredulously.

"No clue," said Ron, cheerily, "Hey look at these flying quills…"

* * *

In a tiny junk shop full of broken wands, lopsided brass scales, and old cloaks covered in potion stains they found Percy, deeply immersed in a book called _Prefects Who Gained Power._

"A study of Hogwarts prefects and their later careers," Ron read aloud off the back cover. "That sounds fascinating..."

Hermione didn't catch on that he was being sarcastic until she heard Percy snap back him:

"Go away."

"'Course, he's very ambitious, Percy, he's got it all planned out... He wants to be Minister of Magic..." Ron told Harry and Hermione in an undertone as they left him to it.

Hermione kept her mouth shut. Minister of Magic. It's not as though she hadn't thought about it. But she knew there'd never been an openly Muggle-born Minister full stop, let  
alone a Minister of Magic. Almost everyone in power came from pure blood families, or were at least very closely connected to them. Hermione had no such connections to boast of.

Besides, if she said it now, Ron and Harry would probably start comparing her to Percy as well as Mrs Weasley, and she'd had quite enough distress for one day.

* * *

 _ **Thank you for reading, and thanks especially for anyone who bears with me while I take eons to update. I know this is another short one but there's more on the way. As always, your support, reviews and favourites r** **eally motivate me to write, edit and post. All the love in the world 3**_


	8. Chapter Seven: A Step Two Far

**Unemployed and writing again! Thank you again to everyone who keeps coming back, favouriting and reviewing. You're the reason I do the thing!**

* * *

"D'you think you could do it?" Lee asked, as they came out the joke shop, arms laden with loot.

Fred and George looked at each other.

"It could take years," said George, "I'm pretty sure none of us could pull off transfiguration like that until at least – what?" he glanced at Fred, "Sixth year?"

Fred nodded. "It's at least beyond O.W.L."

It wasn't that they were against long-term plans. They just preferred to find quicker ways to get things done. As every trip to Diagon Alley reminded them, once they left school they didn't have time to still be working on things before they started making money. They only managed to get as much as they had from Gambol because Fred had been relentlessly charming with the saleswoman, telling her he'd recommend them to all his friends at Hogwarts.

"Backburner, then," Lee concluded. "Who'd have thought Hermione Granger would be throwing out ideas for a joke shop, though?"

George joined in his laugh, "Who knows what other genius she hides under her bushy hair?"

"Ah, Granger's not so bad," Fred said, chucking, "When we start taking advice from Percy, that's when we know we're in trouble."

* * *

 **You know what's weird? Even having this double POV, there's so much of CoS' plot that isn't going to happen on the page for this fic. Like. I'm writing a few chapters down the line and Dobby just has never been mentioned. I swear Harry must have spent half this year just telling every other character what was going on. Anyway I'm just pointing this out bc I feel like I covered most major plot points in Whose Side but Two Sides is turning out a bit different. I considered forcing all that exposition but then I remembered you've read the damn books. Just. Dobby has happened. He's probably been discussed. Okay. Let's get back to putting out favourite characters in a sandbox and making them play with each other, shall we?**

 **(love u)**


	9. Chapter Eight: Double Standards

_**Hey folks! Still here! Thanks for sticking around *hearteyes***_

* * *

By the time they all met up again at _Flourish and Blotts_ , Fred and George were mysteriously firework-less, apparently having found a way to stash them where their mother wouldn't find out about them. Hermione considered mentioning it to her but then – _you sound a lot like Mum_ – perhaps she'd leave them be.

Besides, there was something much more pleasant to be occupying her thoughts.

"Calmly please, ladies!" The man trying to control the mass of women trying to get closer to Gilderoy Lockhart was desperately trying to be heard (or even seen, he was a tiny creature who was wearing an enormously tall top hat, possibly in an attempt to make up for it) above the crowd as Hermione, Harry and Ron joined the Weasleys and Hermione's parents. A woman with a large handbag spun around, and not-quite-accidentally knocked his hat off of his head, inciting a snigger from somewhere to Hermione's left.

She turned and caught the gaze of a young girl, eyes wide even as she supressed a grin, looking especially tiny holding a standard potions cauldron. Some part of Hermione noted that she'd been expecting a lanky girl, Ron's build rather than the twins' stockier frames.

"Oh!" Hermione exclaimed, clapping her hand over her mouth in sudden guilt, "I completely forgot to introduce myself!" She'd been so busy worrying about her parents meeting the Wealseys that she'd totally missed that there was one Weasley in particular that _she_ hadn't met yet. Ginny grinned, a little shyly.

"It's okay, Hermione, it's not like I don't know who you are."

So, her resemblance to the twins went beyond just build, Hermione thought, laughing.

"Yes, I guess we're probably past first-name introductions. I already knew from Ron's letters that we'd get on."

Ginny grinned. "I thought so too. I liked you as soon as I realised you were annoying Ron." She stopped, eyes widening. "I mean-!"

Hermione winced and then laughed awkwardly. "Don't worry, it's not a secret that I annoy your brother. I know what you mean."

"I like annoying him too!" Ginny added, her cheeks starting to flush.

"Everyone has to have a hobby!" Hermione agreed.

 _Oh God_. This was going terribly. She should know by now that she was bad at making friends. Especially girls. Especially Weasleys. She should have prepared better, gone into this with a plan. Was Ron telling everyone she was annoying, still? Ginny was talking again – or babbling:

"Hobbies! Yes! Do you like Quidditch?"

Hermione's heart sank, and from the look on the other girl's face, it showed. Before she had a chance to say anything else, they were interrupted.

"It _can't_ be Harry Potter!"

 _Oh. God. Gilderoy Lockhart is heading towards us!_ He was even more startlingly pretty in real life than in his dustjacket photos, his golden hair and sparkling blue eyes set off wonderfully by his flowing robes. Hermione felt the blood rush to her face as he reached forward and grabbed Harry, close enough that she could feel the air move from his swiping motion, even as Harry splayed out his arms to try and slow himself down, knocking them accidentally against both girls. When she'd recovered enough to register that he'd gone again, she turned to see Ginny had changed colour too, the Weasley blush even more fantastically bright with her long red hair. _Ah. We might have one thing in common_ , she thought. Somehow, seeing another girl affected by Lockhart like that calmed Hermione slightly, and she regained the ability to speak.

"Gosh, he is… _something_ , isn't he?" Well. Almost regained her ability to speak.

"Yeah," Ginny breathed, her eyes fixed on the pair of them as they posed for photos, the flashes reflecting magnificently off of Lockhart's dazzling smile even as they seemed to be almost blinding Harry.

"Ladies and gentlemen," the former said loudly, waving for quiet. "What an extraordinary moment this is! The perfect moment for me to make a little announcement I've been sitting on for some time!

"When young Harry here stepped into _Flourish and Blotts_ today, he only wanted to buy my autobiography — which I shall be happy to present him now, free of charge —"

Handsome _and_ generous! Hermione felt her heart flutter in her chest. The crowd applauded again.

"He had no idea," Lockhart continued, giving Harry a little shake that made his glasses slip to the end of his nose, "that he would shortly be getting much, much more than my book, _Magical Me_. He and his schoolmates will, in fact, be getting the real magical me. Yes, ladies and gentlemen, I have great pleasure and pride in announcing that this September, I will be taking up the post of Defence Against the Dark Arts teacher at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry!"

By the time Hermione was done processing this information, her eyes wide and her mouth gaping open and shut like a fish's, Harry had returned to them, and was depositing his newly acquired collection of Lockhart books into Ginny's cauldron.

"You have these," he mumbled to her, "I'll buy my own."

Hermione saw her own expression mirrored in Ginny's, watched the younger girl's eyes fix on her friend. _Wait…_

"Bet you loved that, didn't you, Potter?"

Hermione hated having her thoughts interrupted, particularly when she was on the brink of putting something together and _particularly_ particularly when the one doing the interrupting was Draco Malfoy.

" _Famous_ Harry Potter," he continued. "Can't even go into a _bookshop_ without making the front page."

"Leave him alone, he didn't want all that!"

Hermione's cutting remark leapt back into her throat in surprise as she turned to Ginny; it was remarkable to see so much fury so pouring out of someone so small. It made Hermione think of Tinkerbell.

"Potter, you've got yourself a _girlfriend_!" drawled Malfoy.

Ginny's face practically glowed with her blush, illuminating the idea that Hermione had almost had a grip on just before Malfoy interrupted.

 _Not Lockhart, then._

"Oh, it's you," said Ron, appearing at Hermione's side and looking at Malfoy with the same face she had seen him reserve for troll bogies. "Bet you're surprised to see Harry here, eh?"

"Not as surprised as I am to see you in a shop, Weasley," retorted Malfoy. "I suppose your parents will go hungry for a month to pay for all of those."

Hermione knew Ron well enough by now to have grabbed the back of his robes before he could leap at Malfoy, and with Harry's help she managed to hold him back, although she could practically feel the heat of his anger radiating off of him.

"Ron!" said Mr Wealsey, struggling over with Fred and George. "What are you doing? It's too crowded in here, let's go outside."

"Well, well, well — Arthur Weasley." It was Mr Malfoy. He stood with his hand on Draco's shoulder, sneering in just the same way.

"Lucius," said Mr Weasley, nodding coldly.

Hermione felt the older Malfoy's gaze slide over each of them in turn, pausing on Harry and then herself. She shivered.

"Busy time at the Ministry, I hear," said Mr Malfoy. "All those raids... I hope they're paying you overtime?"

He reached into Ginny's cauldron and extracted, from amid the glossy Lockhart books, a very old, very battered copy of _A Beginner's Guide to Transfiguration_.

"Obviously not," Mr Malfoy said. "Dear me, what's the use of being a disgrace to the name of wizard if they don't even pay you well for it?"

Mr Weasley flushed darker than either Ron or Ginny, although they had both raised the stakes.

"We have a very different idea of what disgraces the name of wizard, Malfoy," he said.

Hermione was torn between being proud at Mr Weasley's response and wishing desperately that he would just leave it be, so they could get out of there.

"Clearly," said Mr Malfoy. His pale eyes strayed to Hermione's parents, who were watching apprehensively, and she suddenly felt sick to her stomach. Everything about the way he was looking at them screamed _danger._

"The company you keep, Weasley... and I thought your family could sink no lower –"

There was a thud of metal as Ginny's cauldron went flying; Mr Weasley had thrown himself at Mr Malfoy, knocking him backwards into a bookshelf. Dozens of heavy spellbooks came thundering down on all their heads. There was a yell of, "Get him, Dad!" from Fred or George, Hermione didn't bother to ascertain which, as she instinctively ran to her parents.

Mrs Weasley was shrieking, "No, Arthur, no!" as the crowd stampeded backward, knocking more shelves over

"Gentlemen, please — please!" cried the assistant, and then, louder than all —

"Break it up, there, gents, break it up —"

Hagrid was wading toward them through the sea of books. In an instant, he had pulled Mr Weasley and Mr Malfoy apart. Mr Weasley had a cut lip and Mr Malfoy had been hit in the eye by an Encyclopedia of Toadstools. He was still holding Ginny's old Transfiguration book. He thrust it at her, his eyes glittering with malice.

"Here, girl — take your book — it's the best your father can give you —"

Pulling himself out of Hagrid's grip he beckoned to Draco and swept from the shop. Hermione felt her father gently squeeze her hand and looked down to realise she held one of each of her parents in a vice-like grip.

"Sorry," she murmured, relaxing her grasp, even as they each shook their heads to dismiss her apology. Her heart was still thundering in her chest as she heard Hagrid's voice, as if through water:

"Yeh should've ignored him, Arthur," he said, "rotten ter the core, the whole family, everyone knows that — no Malfoy's worth listenin' ter — bad blood, that's what it is" _bad blood_? "— come on now — let's get outta here."

They were outside, and Hermione was still holding onto her parents hands, albeit gentler now, as they hurried up the street. She could feel them shaking. _It's ruined, it's all ruined._

"A fine example to set for your children!" Mrs Weasley's fury was tangible, "brawling in public… what Gilderoy Lockhart must've thought —"

"He was pleased," said Fred. "Didn't you hear him as we were leaving? He was asking that bloke from the Daily Prophet if he'd be able to work the fight into his report — said it was all publicity —"

Hermione's head snapped around to look at him, sure he had to be lying. He met her gaze briefly, straight-faced.

"Nonsense," his mother muttered as they headed back to the Leaky Cauldron, and then she too fell into silence. The group stayed subdued as they said their goodbyes.

"So sorry again for… that," Mrs Weasley said to Hermione's parents.

"No! Of course not! We appreciate- I mean," Hermione's mother paused and glanced at her husband, "We know that it was partly because of us, being there and –"

"You had as much right to be there as anyone else!" Mr Weasley suddenly burst out, his tone showing he'd not quite gotten rid of his anger.

Hermione's throat felt tight.

"More, probably," said Fred.

"Yeah, you're Hermione's parents – raising a prodigy ought to be a V.I.P pass for bookshops." George agreed.

"The Malfoys are prats," Ron added, looking at them earnestly.

Mrs Weasley, sent him a warning look for language but didn't disagree. In fact, Hermione saw the whole clan agree in unison, Percy muttering something suspiciously like _"Hear, hear"_ under his breath, and Ginny nodding her head so hard her hair flew into her face.

She heard a choked laugh and was surprised to discover it was her own. She glanced at her parents to see that they too were smiling, somewhat bemused.

"Well, we appreciate that sentiment," her father said warmly, and moved to shake Mr Weasley's hand. Mr Weasley pulled him into a full bear hug, which her father managed to survive with at least a little dignity. Mrs Weasley did the same to her mother and herself, and then Hermione was left to say goodbye to her friends.

"No need to cry, Hermione, we'll be seeing each other again in a couple of weeks," George said.

"I'm not crying!" She said, checking with her hands to make sure.

He grinned.

"Well, good. Don't think you're letting anyone keep you away from watching us get back at Malfoy this year. It's going to be spectacular." Fred's smile turned slightly manic as he ended his sentence.

"I'm… concerned."

"Aren't we all," Harry said, looking at the twins sideways. He gave her a brief hug. "See you soon, Hermione."

"Yeah, see you," Ron half-hugged her, his hand touching her shoulder briefly before he pulled away. Honestly. Ginny hesitated, and then seemed to shake it off before deciding to show her brother how it was done, pulling Hermione into a full-frontal hug, her squeeze surprisingly strong for someone so small.

"I can't wait to see you again at Hogwarts," she said, earnestly, "where we can both carry on with that hobby we have in common."

Hermione laughed, even as the boys shared confused looks, "It's a plan."

As she walked away with her parents, she looked over her shoulder one more time, and smiled. A plan. She'd see them all soon again.

* * *

 _ **I feel like we've been pre-Hogwarts for approximately a billion years now. I'm hoping I'll be able to get a bit more momentum with the writing of this fic once we get back to Hogwarts and hopefully you won't have to wait so long for updates! [pause for cheers]. Just wanted to say thank you again for reading, and favouriting and commenting and generally being lovely. I appreciate it more than I can tell you.**_


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